attempting a long swim when quite
fresh and vigorous, and doing the same thing after a hard night's work,
on short allowance of food, and with limbs stiffened by wet and cold.
Moreover, the sea, although much quieter than it had been, was still
rough enough to tell sorely against him. Before he had gone a mile he
felt his strength beginning to fail; but he thought of his wife, and of
all the other lives that now depended upon him alone, and struggled
desperately onward. But now came a new trouble. In the deepening
darkness the island for which he was heading soon disappeared
altogether, and he found himself swimming almost at random. Every stroke
was now a matter of life and death, and yet each of those strokes might
be taken in the wrong direction. It was a terrible thought. Heavier and
heavier grew his cramped limbs, harder and harder pressed the merciless
sea. He sank--rose--sank again, and as he came up once more, lifted his
voice in a despairing cry, feeling that all was over.

"Hist, laddies! there's some ane skirling" (screaming), shouted a hoarse
voice near him.

There was a sudden splash of oars, a clamor of many voices, and then a
strong hand clutched him as he sank for the last time. So utterly was he
spent that he could barely force out the few words needful to tell his
story; but these were quite enough for the Orkney fishermen, who at once
put about and steered straight for the rock.

It was a glad sight for the weary watchers, when the boat came gliding
toward them out of the darkness. But when they recognized their captain,
whom they had long since given up for lost, they gathered their last
strength for a feeble cheer, while poor Thyra sprang into the boat, and
threw her arms round his neck without a word.

So ended Captain Petersen's daring swim, which brought him good in a way
that he little expected; for when the news of the feat reached Bergen,
the townspeople at once started a subscription to buy him another
vessel, in which he is voyaging now.

SOME CURIOUS ART WORKS AND ARTISTS.

The Marquis de Veere once gave each of his household a sufficient
quantity of the richest white silk damask for a suit. Charles V. was
about to make him a visit, and the marquis wished his court to make a
splendid appearance when assisting him to receive the emperor. His
painter, Mabuse, who was always in debt, was granted the privilege of
seeing to the making of his own suit of clothes. Mabuse, however, so